Nights in Tents
by HPJKfan
Summary: Exploring what could have happened when Harry and Hermione were left alone in a tent during their seventh year. H/Hr pairing.


I do not own any part, shape, or piece of Harry Potter or of its wonderful universe. I just like to play there.

Things were much quieter once Ron left. Harry was stunned and then furious at his friend's desertion, while Hermione was devastated but progressed to annoyance as the hours slowly drifted by. As days bled into weeks, they both became more stoic and a semblance of normality settled into their routine.

They each picked their new location on alternate days and whoever hadn't picked the new site was responsible for organising dinner. Whichever one had chosen the location was also in charge of setting the protective charms. They both gathered firewood and divided up wearing the locket between them. Routine and normality regined in the face of persecution.

As the weeks flitted by, it became their custom to start the first watch together at the door of the tent, bundled side by side under blankets with one of Hermione's flaming jars in front of them for comfort and warmth. Often they would take cups of tea with them and talk aimlessly before straying into companionable silence. Finally, whoever had taken the first watch the night before would gather the cups and say goodnight, leaving the other to man the darkness alone.

The weather had been filthy the past week, with howling winds and freezing rain. On this night, however, the wind had dropped to a slight breeze and the moon rose high and bright. It appeared milder, although that was likely only subjective and it was probably normal temperatures for December.

For whatever reason, their spirits were lifted and they started their watch earlier than usual and sat together for longer, chatting amiably, careful to keep the topics light and breezy.

Presently, they fell silent. Harry finished his tea and set the cup beside him with a heavy sigh. He surveyed the darkness, unconsciously furrowing his brow. She glanced at him in silence and took another sip of her tea. She waited, then peeked again. He was now chewing his lip distractedly.

"What's up?" she asked, attempting and failing to meet his stare as he refused to look at her when she spoke.

"Just thinking," he offered with a quick smile that didn't quite reach his distant eyes.

"About?" she countered, nudging his arm with her own encouragingly.

He gave a quick snort, rolling his eyes at her.

"Life," he proposed with a faux lofty jerk of his head, hoping she would humour him and drop it.

She squared her shoulders and studied him intently.

"What about life?" she asked, a warning note creeping into her tone, letting him know she was on to his attempts at avoidance and wasn't about to let this drop. She had been carefully studying him for weeks and was concerned by what she observed.

"Just...just that I never imagined I would end up here."

She stayed mute, forcing him to continue.

"I thought I'd spend this year in Hogwarts. Then, as things became clearer, I thought I'd get more instructions...about the Horcruxes, I mean. I thought it would be me and Dumbledore working together...then when...I thought I'd be going alone, that I'd be able to keep you and...you both safe and away from it all. I thought I might be able to check in with the Order if I needed to. I never...I never imagined it would all seem so..."

He could feel her stance stiffen beside him.

"It's just...it all feels a bit...I feel...this isn't..." he growled in frustration.

He closed his eyes briefly and let out a deep breath.

"This..._task_, for want of a better word, with no real instructions and no guidance, feels genuinely ridiculous but mostly the whole thing just seems...impossible."

He paused, but she didn't respond. She appeared to be holding her breath, as though afraid any sound from her would make him stop. However, surprisingly, he rushed to continue, his thoughts racing without any coherent structure.

"There's so many things I want to do, so many things I want to see," he sighed, absentmindedly ruffling his unruly hair as he spoke. She flicked her eyes towards him but gave no verbal response.

"I want to finish school, I want to get a job, rent an apartment. I want to get stupidly drunk. I want...I want to have sex," he listed, his voice getting quieter and his speed increasing as he proceeded. This time he felt her give a little start as she studied him.

The moment lengthened, the only sounds their breathing and the slight swaying of the trees.

"You mean...you mean you and Ginny never...?" she asked, her tone hesitant. He felt the warmth of a blush bloom across his face.

"No, not quite. We got close to it once or twice, but never the whole way. Decided we didn't want our first time to be on the floor of some disused and dusty classroom or against a tree on the grounds," he finished with a short chuckle devoid of mirth.

He looked over at her. She was examining her cooling cup of tea.

"What about you? Have you ever...?" he asked, his mouth suddenly going dry. While she was one of his best friends, he and Hermione didn't talk about these things. Sure, she had been relatively forward when encouraging him to pursue Cho, but they didn't delve into the minutiae of what teenagers can get up to when locked in an embrace away from prying eyes.

It was her turn to blush. She paused before shaking her head, her curls bouncing in the light of the enchanted fire. She puffed out a breath before meeting his gaze.

"No. Viktor and I kissed and...did some other things..." here Harry wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, drawing a short laugh from her "but we didn't take it further than that. Cormac was game, probably would have done it behind the drapes at Slughorn's party if I'd let him but, no, we didn't do it either. Thankfully," she finished with a crooked smirk.

He met her eyes with a smile of his own.

"Good. Probably dodged a bullet there."

She nodded before taking a quick sip of, what must now have been cold, tea.

Both were silent for a couple of minutes, gazing around the impenetrable darkness and listening to the soft creaks of the surrounding forest. Hermione placed her cup down.

He cleared his throat, seeing her glance at him out of his peripheral vision but unable to meet her eyes. He almost lost his nerve and stared at his feet as he confessed, "I also...someday...I wanted to get married. And I really wanted to have kids."

She didn't say anything but he could feel her eyes boring into him.

"Don't do that," she finally whispered, the quiver in her voice lengthening the sentence almost imperceptibly.

He turned to her, eyebrows scrunched in confusion and a spark of annoyance.

"Do what?" he barked, somewhat harsher than he had anticipated. He was mollified when he saw her eyes momentarily close as though startled. She pursed her lips briefly before meeting his gaze again.

"Talk about it in the past tense. Like it won't happen. Like you won't..." she murmured slowly, unable to finish her thought.

His stomach dropped. He hadn't realised he had done it. But, really, he was amazed that he'd finally slipped and verbalised the fear and weight of expectation he'd been carrying around with him for months.

He bit his lip distractedly, rubbing his palms unconsciously against his thighs as he did.

"Well, one of us has to go, don't we? Makes more sense for it to be me than him," he drawled with an attempt at a jovial tone that sounded pathetic, even to his own ears. His effort at lightheartedness fell horrendously flat: Hermione winced as though he had shouted.

"Don't...don't worry about it, Hermione. I'm just being realistic. I'll still give it my best shot, give him a decent fight..." he trailed off, unable to watch the pained expression on her face and addressing his ramble to his knees instead.

"Please don't say that," she pleaded quietly with an audible catch in her throat, though she fought valiantly to suppress it. He felt a lump form in his own throat and blinked hurriedly, thoroughly mortified.

He took a minute to compose himself before offering her a crooked smile that didn't quite hide the trembling of his chin. Her eyes shone with unshed tears and he pressed his lips together before instinctively pulling her into an awkward sideways hug. She burrowed against him, wrapping an arm around his stomach as his forearm moved across her shoulders. They settled against one another more comfortably, turning their heads back towards the darkness as Harry's free hand shifted to clasp the hand she had draped across his middle. The silence lengthened and stretched.

Presently, he felt her move against him and he pulled slightly away from her, assuming she was readying herself to go indoors. His hand felt cold without hers in it. To his surprise, she made no attempt to leave but sat fiercely upright and stared at him with an almost unnerving intensity. He raised his eyebrows at her in an unspoken question. She blew out a quick breath, as though steadying her nerves. His eyebrows climbed higher.

"Harry...I can't pretend we're not in danger and that...that we might not get hurt, that things could end horribly. For either one of us," she raised a hand to silence him when his mouth opened to respond and barrelled on, "I want us both to get through this, to _live_ through this...but that might not happen..."

Here she actually covered his mouth with her hand as he tried to retort.

"I can't do anything about most of the things you wanted to do, but there's one of them that I can definitely help you tick off your list, if you'd like," she finished in a rush, dropping her hand as colour flooded her face.

He momentarily stared at her in confusion before his jaw dropped as the full meaning of her words settled in his racing brain.

"Hermione!" he gasped, instinctively scooting back against the wall of the tent in astonishment. Her colour intensified but she held his gaze.

"We're running for our lives, lost, unsure what to do next or where to go. I'd say a bit of certainty and comfort wouldn't do either of us any harm," she breathed, maintaining eye contact before glancing down at his mouth. He felt a pleasurable tightening in his abdomen and felt his breath catch in spite of himself.

"Hermione..." he whispered, surveying her slightly parted lips as though seeing her for the first time.

He had always appreciated her, but had never dwelled too closely or examined too thoroughly the feelings that rose within him when she made him laugh or when her hair tickled his face as she leaned in to whisper to him. They were friends and he convinced himself these were just normal friendly feelings, without admitting to himself that he had never felt anything remotely similar towards Ron. There was no denying she was pretty. She had beautiful eyes, a soft mouth, and a pleasing figure. Her _je ne sais quoi _attitude to her overall appearance and social standing was admirable and, if he was honest, a little alluring. She was never anything less than herself and that kind of confidence was difficult to resist. These suppressed thoughts and feelings bubbled to the surface as Harry studied her, the tightening in his abdomen spreading downwards.

Neither was entirely sure who moved first but suddenly they were kissing, hands snaking into hair and under clothes as they pulled each other closer. Hermione gave a little grunt of frustration before pulling the blankets off them and straddling his lap. The pressure of her against his crotch was unbelievable and when she began to gently roll her hips he was sure his eyes rolled back in his head. His hands found her breasts and she arched her back at the touch.

He groaned low in his chest and ground back against her, not caring that she could feel his evident arousal, just desperate to increase that sweet tightening that was spiraling through his groin. She sighed in appreciation and he moved his hands to grab her buttocks in response, wantonly pressing her down and against him as she moaned unselfconsciously.

She was pushing against him faster and faster, her eyes unfocused and her mouth falling open whenever they broke a kiss. Everything from his navel down felt stiff as a board and he worried how long this could last. He pushed her back gently, meeting her look of confusion with a fierce kiss before growling, "Inside."

She didn't need telling twice. They fell through the door, maintaining physical contact at all times as they staggered across the tent; hands and mouths moving frantically as they wrenched articles of clothing off, groaning in appreciation as new body parts were presented for exploration. However, both were careful to keep their wands in their hands before placing them on the ground beside the nearest bunk. Even as their thoughts veered south, some part of them was aware of the need for vigilance.

Eventually, they tipped onto Harry's bunk, breathless with anticipation. He glanced down at her as he got into position, her hooded eyes shining as her hand moved to guide him. His entire body shook with expectation.

"Harry," she gasped when they finally met, "I'm so glad it's you."

The tent was suddenly loud with creaking from the bunk while panting shouts and cries became the natural accompaniment. Hermione's familiarity with riding a broomstick meant there was minimal pain and they could fully immerse themselves in chasing and giving pleasure. They moved across and around one another hungrily, and any missteps or clumsy actions only made the experience sweeter as they discovered and learned together.

Finally, it ended with a shuddering prolonged cry as Harry collapsed against her, skin sticking where they touched but neither wishing to break the contact. He had made sure his hands brought her to completion only moments before. They kissed languidly as residual shivers and shocks raced through them.

Presently, Hermione wriggled out and reached around him, placing a lingering kiss on his chest as she did, to pluck her wand from the floor and quickly clean them up. She murmured another quick spell against her stomach before depositing the wand, glancing at him with a bashful smile. He pulled her against him for another lazy kiss. She sighed contentedly and pushed against him so she could tug the blankets over them, settling beside him. She felt drowsy and fulfilled as sleep tugged her down. His fingers made lazy patterns across her stomach as she drifted off, a ghost of a smile on her serene face. He lay quietly for another minute, enjoying the sated, heavy feeling of his limbs, before reluctantly moving from the bunk to dress and resume the watch.


End file.
